A pair of foxes, disrupting the snow, Were trampling the edge of the nuptial den; At dusk, their hard love reveals to surrounding brush
It took a while to get used to the way they bundle things, the French, the brown
paper, string-ties, flashy bags with handles. It took
the three trees guarded the entrance to a smaller road,
and by the time Marcel’s carriage had turned
down another lane he found he had not